Chapter 13 - The Blood on the WallMarcus did not let Elena come to the guest wing.
That should have stopped her.
It did not.
She waited exactly forty seconds after he left, then asked Mrs. Hale to watch Leo and followed the noise through the eastern corridor.
The guest wing smelled of perfume, old flowers, and something metallic.
Blood.
Victoria stood barefoot in the middle of her sitting room, one hand wrapped in a towel, her gray suit jacket discarded on the floor. A mirror lay shattered behind her. Security guards stood near the doors. Marcus faced her with an expression Elena could not read.
And on the pale silk wall, written in streaked red letters, were four words.
HE ISN’T AMELIA’S.
Elena stopped in the doorway.
Victoria saw her and smiled.
“Oh good,” she said. “The maid came too.”
Marcus turned.
“I told you to stay with Leo.”
“He’s with Mrs. Hale.”
His eyes flickered with frustration, but he said nothing.
Victoria laughed softly.
“You’re all so devoted to the little prince. So touching.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“What does it mean?”
Victoria looked at the bloody wall.
“It means your sainted wife had secrets.”
Margaret entered behind Elena, leaning heavily on her cane. When she saw the wall, her face turned to stone.
“Victoria,” she said, “this is your last chance to stop.”
Victoria’s eyes filled with savage satisfaction.
“Stop what? Telling the truth?”
Marcus’s voice was quiet.
“Leo is Amelia’s son.”
“Is he?”
The room went still.
Elena felt cold spread through her chest.
Victoria lifted her injured hand.
“Ask your doctors why Amelia’s delivery records were sealed separately. Ask why the birth certificate took six weeks. Ask why the baby had no hospital photographs until he came home.”
Marcus shook his head.
“That proves nothing.”
Victoria looked at Margaret.
“She knows.”
Everyone turned.
Margaret’s grip tightened on her cane.
Marcus stared at his mother.
“What is she talking about?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
For the first time all day, she looked old.
“Mother,” Marcus said.
Margaret opened her eyes.
“Amelia carried Leo,” she said carefully. “She loved him before he was born. That is what matters.”
Victoria clapped once, delighted.
“Oh, listen to that wording.”
Marcus’s face drained.
Elena’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Margaret looked at him.
“Marcus.”
“No.” His voice cracked. “Say it plainly.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Amelia could not use her own eggs after the treatments she had before your marriage. You both agreed to use a donor.”
Marcus stared at her.
“No.”
“You signed the consent forms.”
“I signed hundreds of medical forms. Amelia said—”
“She was afraid you would love the child differently.”
The words broke him.
Marcus stepped back as though the floor had shifted.
Victoria watched with bright, cruel eyes.
“She lied to you.”
Margaret snapped, “She was terrified.”
“She lied,” Victoria repeated. “And your precious mother helped.”
Marcus turned toward Margaret.
“Who was the donor?”
Margaret did not answer.
Victoria smiled at Elena.
Elena felt the room tilt.
No.
Victoria’s smile widened.
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Elena.”
Marcus turned slowly toward her.
Elena could not breathe.
Victoria’s voice lowered.
“Why do you think Leo reaches for her?”
Margaret whispered, “Victoria, enough.”
But Victoria had waited too long for this moment.
“She isn’t just the maid, Marcus.”
Elena backed into the doorframe.
May you like
Victoria pointed at her with the hand wrapped in blood.
“She is Leo’s biological mother.”
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